


- ave atque vale - hello and goodbye -

by otter



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-02
Updated: 2011-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-23 08:44:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otter/pseuds/otter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he dreamed, the fingers of his right hand flexed and curled over and over, and he muttered under his breath in not-quite-Latin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	- ave atque vale - hello and goodbye -

Daniel slept through most of the drive to Denver with his head against the passenger-side window and his chin tucked down to his shoulder. When he dreamed, the fingers of his right hand flexed and curled over and over, and he muttered under his breath in not-quite-Latin.

He only woke once, when an accident on the freeway slowed traffic to a crawl. He blinked his eyes open and said, "What?" as if he hadn't been sleeping at all, just hadn't managed to catch that last thing Jack had said an hour ago.

Jack said, "Go back to sleep, Daniel," but Daniel was already falling again, way down into dreams.

With traffic, the drive to Denver was over two hours, and by the time Jack pulled the truck off the freeway and onto Denver's city streets, the sun was just coming up. The sky was empty but for a few wispy clouds tinged pink, and the air was already warming into what promised to be a warm, beautiful day.

When Jack parked on the little residential street, Daniel didn't stir; Jack watched him sleep for a moment and wondered whether he should just leave Daniel in the vehicle, let him rest. As if shrugging off the weight of Jack’s stare, Daniel shifted and rolled his shoulders, then opened his eyes.

"We're there?" he said, squinting out at the brightening world.

"We're here." Jack sighed and climbed out of the truck.

The morning was a little cooler than he'd expected, so he stopped long enough to grab his leather jacket from the cargo space behind the driver's seat. When he rounded the truck, Daniel was standing on the sidewalk with his head tipped back so he could look up at the top floors of the apartment building in front of him.

Jack laid a hand on Daniel's shoulder, then held up the jacket so he could slip into it; Daniel put his left arm into the sleeve without protest, and said nothing as Jack settled the jacket on his shoulders.

"What's the number?" Daniel asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and starting forward toward the building.

"6-B," Jack answered. He dug his own hands into his pockets, found his keyring with one hand and a different kind of ring with the other, and clenched his fists around them both.

They didn't talk in the elevator, but Daniel leaned against him a little. Daniel's shoulder was warm through the jacket, and Jack brushed the back of his hand against the back of Daniel's, as if by accident. He had to stop himself from touching more, because the elevator doors were opening.

The sixth-floor hall was quiet with the early hour, and even their footsteps were muffled against the carpeted floor. They stopped walking in front of 6-B, and both frowned at the door for a long moment before Daniel raised his hand and knocked softly, three times.

There was no sound of movement from within, but they waited for a few seconds anyway. Finally Daniel said, "Maybe he didn't hear," at the same time Jack said, "Maybe he isn't here."

They compromised by knocking a little louder, risking disturbing the neighbors, and were rewarded by a thumping sound from inside. A moment later, the door cracked open and a sleep-ruffled Pete Shanahan was blinking out at them.

He said, "Oh," and then turned around and shuffled back inside, leaving the door standing open.

They glanced at each other then followed Pete inside. The blinds were mostly drawn against the morning sunshine, and Pete was fiddling with a coffeemaker in the little kitchenette.

"Sorry, I'm still half-asleep," Pete said, over his shoulder. "I just got home a couple hours ago. You guys want coffee?"

Jack said "no" at the same time that Daniel said "yes." Pete chuckled at them and finally got the coffee-maker switched on. He joined them in the living room, crossed his arms across his chest and didn't seem to mind that he was standing there in nothing but a white undershirt and boxer shorts.

"So," he said, "I get this. Sam told you guys about the engagement and you're here to do the big brother thing, right?"

Daniel looked at Jack. Jack tightened his fist around the ring in his pocket; the stone was digging grooves into the flesh of his palm.

"No," Jack said. "We're not here to do that."

Pete's little half-smile faltered; his eyes fixed on Daniel's right hand, half-hidden in the folds of the jacket, but still visible with the bulky white cast. His gaze moved up, and paused on the yellow-purple bruises that ringed Daniel's throat.

Pete said, "What--" and then snapped his mouth shut again, like if he never asked the question -- and they never furnished the answer -- then none of it would be real.

Jack managed to relax his hands enough to pull them from his pockets. The distance between him and Pete seemed too vast to traverse, so he bent a little and placed the ring very carefully on the coffee table.

It sat there, framed by a bright slant of light coming in through the blinds, and Pete stared at it, sucking in breaths like he'd just run all the way from the Springs.

Finally he said, very low and ragged, "Did she suffer?"

Daniel looked down at the floor and said, "No," in a way that meant 'yes.'

Pete nodded, tightly, and turned back to the kitchen and the coffeemaker. He didn't turn again to look at them, even when Jack wrapped a hand around Daniel's elbow and led him toward the door.

the end


End file.
